


nothing can stop us now

by anserpina



Series: magic all around us [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Friends to Lovers, Insecurity, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Slow Dancing, anxiety mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:52:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anserpina/pseuds/anserpina
Summary: “Surely you don’t mean-”“Yes,” he said. “Mr. McClain is the Hogwarts champion for the Triwizard Tournament. Whether he wants to be or not.”Bravery can manifest in all sorts of ways. And if Lance is going to survive the Triwizard Tournament- and the Yule Ball- he's going to need to be brave in every way possible.





	nothing can stop us now

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is two days late but in my defense, it is also two times the length that I meant for it to be. I hope that this is as much fun to read as it was for me to write.
> 
> And yes, Goblet of Fire is my favorite Harry Potter book. Tournaments? Dancing? Immense bravery? Exactly my cup of tea.

The mark of a true Gryffindor was undeniable bravery. It was common knowledge- every hero in the wizarding world could be traced back to Gryffindor house, to the place where recklessness and the ability to face the unknown was cultivated into a talent. His family had it. He could still picture Veronica, five feet tall and angry as all hell, charging into the middle of an all out brawl in their primary school. She had pulled some kid that she hadn’t known, bruised and bleeding, from the middle of the circle and then had made every person involved regret ever laying a hand on him. She hadn’t even hesitated, running into the fray the second she heard the boys pained cry. His friends had it, too. The sorting hat had warned everyone at Hogwarts of Keith’s reckless behavior as soon as it had sensed it, and over the last four years, he had proven that recklessness time and time again. But beyond that recklessness, he was fearless; he had been the first in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class to face a boggart. He had stepped up, wand at the ready, and opened the door to his biggest fear, in front of the entire group of fourth years. It hadn’t been a regular fear. Where one would expect spiders or terrible monsters built from nightmares, Keith had faced… himself. He had opened the door on another Keith, nearly identical, but with red eyes instead of his dark grey and a vicious, almost sinister smile on his face.

 

Their professor, after watching Keith successfully morph the boggart into cat, had explained what the fear had been: the absence of love and the fear of the unknown. 

 

When Keith had told him that he had volunteered despite expecting something along those lines, Lance had realized that bravery showed itself in a lot of different ways. Sometimes bravery was running head first into a fight. Sometimes it was facing your fear, even if your biggest fear is yourself. 

 

And sometimes, bravery was trusting yourself enough to take a risk, even when you know that losing could end in your own demise.

 

“Lance McClain.” He could barely hear the Minister of Magic’s voice through the fog of truth serum clouding his thoughts. “Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?”

 

It took a few tries for him to figure out how his mouth worked. “No,” he slurred. “I didn’t put my name in the Goblet of Fire.”

 

“Did you ask a seventh year to put your name in for you?”

 

His answer came quicker this time, his mouth moving easier than the first time he tried. “No, I didn’t ask anyone to put my name in the Goblet of Fire.” 

 

It was the truth- he hadn’t put his own name in and he hadn’t asked anyone to put his name in the Goblet of Fire. 

 

….Matt had offered to put it in for him. Offering and asking? Two completely different things.

 

Blearily, he thought:  _ this is probably why the sorting hat considered putting you in Ravenclaw,  _ and made himself giggle. 

 

“He has to be lying,” said the Headmaster from Durmstrang. He towered over the other professors by at least a foot and his anger only made him seem larger. “This is insulting, to have my champion go up against a fourteen year old boy.”

 

Headmaster Smythe bristled. “Are you insinuating the Mr. McClain is not champion material?” 

 

The monmouth of a man nodded briskly. “That is exactly what I am saying.”

 

Even in his delirious state, Lance could tell Headmaster Smythe was seething. He had become Headmaster for Hogwarts only a year before and had been Lance’s Charms professor prior to that. It was clear that he didn’t take lightly to seeing any of his students disrespected, even by their guests. “If you do not wish to have your champion compete against ours, then take him out of the competition.”

 

At that, the Minister turned from his place by the window. “Now, Coran. We all know it doesn’t work like that. Once the Goblet chooses a champion, he or she  _ must _ compete in the tournament.” He frowned and rubbed at his tired eyes. “Unfortunately, the same is to be said for Mr. McClain.”

 

“Surely you don’t mean-”

 

“Yes,” he said. “Mr. McClain is the Hogwarts champion for the Triwizard Tournament. Whether he wants to be or not.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I just,” Allura whispered. “I just don’t understand how this happened.”

 

He sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders. They were sat in the Gryffindor common room, discussing his enrollment into the tournament as they waited for the rest of the group to be released from Care of Magical Creatures. “It’s very simple. I was complaining about how only seventh years were able to compete. Matt said ‘Well, I don’t want to compete. Maybe I’ll just put your name instead’ and I said yes.” He stared at the her distressed face sympathetically. “I didn’t expect to actually get chosen.”

 

“But,” she whispered. “You’re just a kid.”

 

“Hey. I’m only a year younger than you!” he retorted. “And besides, the other champions are only seventeen. We’re all kids, really.”

 

Allura laid back in the plush armchair and exhaled. “There’s nothing they can do?”

 

He shook his head and listened to her groan. “But, I mean.” He paused and played with the frayed edge of the red and gold rug that he was sitting on. “I want to do it.”

 

“You’ve got to be joking. Lance, you could die.” Allura stared at him, her expression dead serious. “This isn’t just any old competition. The competitors in these games… they don’t always last.” She bit her lip worriedly. “There’s a very good chance you could be hurt.”

 

“So what!” he yelled. “Who cares about the risk? Allura, maybe I just want to be taken seriously for once in my life.” He stood as his anger rose and paced around the empty room. “Sure, I could die! But maybe, just maybe, I could win. And wouldn’t that be something- the youngest of the McClains, the weakest McClain, the one who nobody expected- competing in the Triwizard Tournament and  _ winning _ . Don’t you see why I might have been so willing to put my name in the Goblet?”

 

Allura, stunned as she might be, kept her face perfectly blank. “Of course I do. Hell, I’m actually mad I didn’t do it myself.” And wow, okay, Lance definitely wasn’t expecting that. “I mean, my father was the last winner Hogwarts had. I wish I could have competed myself, followed in his footsteps or something,” she sighed. She glanced at Lance and refused to look away. “I can understand wanting to be the best you can be.” 

 

Her own confession sapped his energy completely. He sat down next to her, one hand pulling her close into a side hug. “I’m sorry. I know that if anyone would understand, it would be you. I think I’m just… I’m ready to show people what I’m made of.”

 

The door opened and the rest of the crew crowded in. Unsurprisingly, Romelle was the first through the door, bounding across the room to sit on the other side of her girlfriend. “Okay, so. Matt filled us in on the way over, and Keith already chewed him out for it, so take it easy when he comes in, alright?”

 

“I didn’t chew him out,” Keith’s low voice was right behind Lance and he jumped slightly, glancing back at his friend. “I just told him that if Lance dies, I’ll make him wish it had been his name that they had pulled from the Goblet.”

 

Romelle rolled her eyes. “Alright, sorry. Keith threatened to kill Matt already, so maybe take it easy on him.” Her eyes softened sadly. “He feels really bad.”

 

“He  _ should- _ ” Keith exclaimed, stopping only when Lance laid his hand on top of his. 

 

“Don’t. It was my choice, and I got chosen,” he said with a shrug. “I’m competing. Are you going to support me or not?”

 

Keith scoffed. He walked around the couch to stand in front of Lance, yanking the other boy into a hug. “Imagine thinking I wouldn’t support you,” he huffed. He pulled back, meeting Lance’s eyes, his own as fierce as ever. “You better win.” When Lance nodded, he softened, the fire fading from his his eyes. “Good luck… champion.”

 

Lance grinned at him before turning back to the rest of the group. “Okay team- wait,” he looked around questioningly. “Where’s Hunk and Pidge? And my sister?” 

 

“They were hungry so they went down to the Great Hall to try and find some snacks,” Matt supplied. “They had chocolate chunk cookies for dessert and I know Rachel said she was going to break into the kitchens if she had to just to get one.”

 

“Wh- I get chosen to represent the school in three match battle royale and they decide that COOKIES are more important?” The group all chuckled at the aghast expression on his face. Keith chuckled more the longer he looked at Lance, and he patted his shoulder. 

 

“That’s the hierarchy,” he said between snickers. “Classes, chocolate chunk cookies, then your quest for fame and glory in a centuries old, worldwide tournament.” He fully laughed when Lance pouted and glared. “Okay, relax. Matt and I will go collect them and bring them here so we can make a game plan.”

 

“Not sure how much planning it will be,” Allura interjected. “We’re not even sure what events are being held this year.”

 

Keith shrugged. “So we’ll get them  _ and _ the snacks and we can… study for midterms, I don’t know.” 

 

“I might not even be alive to take the midterms,” Lance whined.

 

“Then you can help me study for mine.”

 

He leaned back into the couch and covered his eyes dramatically. “I can’t believe Keith found a way to make my untimely heroic demise boring. Buzzkill.” 

 

He grinned teasingly as Matt and Keith headed for the door. “Don’t forget the cookies!”

 

As soon as the portrait swung close, Matt turned to face Keith. “Your boyfriend is so dramatic.” He turned to walk down the stone staircase as it slid into place.

 

“He’s not that dram- Hey!” Keith caught up to the older boy, cheeks flushed a faint pink. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“But he could be,” Matt pointed out. He groaned when his friend shook his head in disagreement. “Oh come on! You couldn’t see yourselves but when you guys hugged? I swear, it was like watching a romance movie.” He made a face in disgust, nose scrunched up. “It was actually super embarrassing. The point is, you guys have  _ it. _ ” 

 

Keith frowned. “It?” 

 

“Yeah,” the Hufflepuff boy replied. “It. Love or whatever. Shiro and Adam have it, Allura and Romelle have it, and you and Lance?” He nodded confidently. “You definitely have it.”

 

“Love,” he repeated. The idea that Lance could be in love with him wasn’t something he entertained anymore. They weren’t in  _ love _ . Sure, Keith’s feelings hadn’t gone away over the summer like he had hoped they would, but he was actively trying not to fall deeper into whatever mess he felt for the other boy. “No way. Lance might be in love but if he is? It’s not with me.”

 

“Look,” Matt said. “I know what I saw. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it, even if you two can’t.” He grabbed Keith’s sleeve, yanking the black robe and pulling him to a stop. “You can’t keep running away from what’s in front of you, Keith.”

 

He pulled his sleeve back, annoyed. “I’m not running away from anything.”

 

“Oh yeah?” he said with a smirk. “Prove it. Ask Lance to be your date for the Yule Ball.”

 

_ Ask Lance to the Yule Ball? _ “I’m not doing that.”

 

Matt smirked even more and placed one hand on the door, pulling it open. “Yeah. Because you’d rather run away.”

 

Keith glared, stalking through the doors to the hall. “Or maybe,” he whispered angrily. “I’m just worried about possibly ruining our friendship.” He peered around the room and scurried inside as soon as he confirmed it was empty. 

 

Matt strolled in behind him, barely bothering to glance in the room. “That’s not very brave of you, Gryffindor.” 

 

Keith isn’t sure why that comment gets to him the most, but suddenly he’s yanking Matt towards him by his yellow and black tie. “Fine. You want to see brave? I’ll ask Lance to be my date for the Yule Ball.” He released Matt and walked towards the kitchen doors angrily. “Now leave me alone.”

 

The older student laughed and pulled open the kitchen doors. “Alright, alright. Besides, I did my job as matchmaker.” He looked inside the kitchen and lept back as Hunk, Pidge and Rachel slipped through the doors, their hands full of all different kinds of snacks. 

 

“Jackpot,” Rachel whispered happily. “Now let’s get out of here before a Prefect finds us.”

 

* * *

 

Lance frowned in confusion. “Sorry, run that past me again?”

 

Romelle and Hunk looked at each other worriedly. “It’s dragons,” Hunk repeated. “The first event is going to include dragons.”

 

He leaned back, his head hitting the bathroom stall with a thud. Lance and Keith had had been walking back to Gryffindor house between classes to study when Romelle had ran up to them and had pulled them into the second floor boys bathroom. It hidden next to a large bookcase at the back of the hall so they weren’t very likely to be interrupted. She shoved them inside where Hunk had been waiting, locked the doors behind her and then had said one word: dragons.

 

_ Dragons. _ As in huge, fire breathing beasts that could probably kill him before he got within a hundred feet of them. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose in an effort to stay calm, because every nerve in his body was telling him to freak out at the moment.

 

“How do you know that?” Keith asked. He sounded as calm as ever, which wasn’t really unlike him; despite his shaky temper, he was pretty level headed when he needed to be and focused on the information supplied to him. “Are we sure it’s going to be dragons?”

 

Romelle narrowed her eyes. “Well, considering I just saw three caged dragons on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, I would say so.” She sighed, dropping to the stone floor next to them. Hunk did the same and sat crossed legged next to the others. “There’s hundreds of trainers guarding them. I was collecting Flesh-Eating Slugs for Professor Ulaz,” Hunk made a face of horror, “and heard a roar. So I walked by the edge of the forest on the opposite side from the school and saw them.” She bit her lip worriedly, looking at Lance, whose eyes were still firmly shut. “They’re… well. They’re huge, guys.”

 

“Romelle found me leaving Care of Magical Creatures and showed me them, too,” Hunk added. He lifted three fingers up and listed them off. “There’s a Herbridean Black, which is pretty aggressive, but lacks peripheral vision, so that could be a benefit. There’s a Swedish Short-Snout, and that’s probably the safest bet, considering it’s smaller, although it’s impressively fast.” He paused and looked at Romelle briefly, panic flashing across his face. “The last one was… a Hungarian Horntail.”

 

Lance opened his eyes at that and looked at Hunk with fear. “I really,  _ really _ don’t like the way you just said that.”

 

“What’s a Hungarian Horntail?” Keith asked. He was pulling at aa thread on his robe absentmindedly, the only outward sign that he was stressed.

 

“It’s considered the most dangerous dragon in existence,” Romelle said simply. As an aspiring dragon trainer, she had studied them extensively, gaining special permission to locked files in the school’s library in order to do so. “It has spikes that it can deploy in combat and it breathes fire up to fifty feet. It’s incredibly fast, so getting around it is going to be nearly impossible.”

 

“It also eats humans,” Hunk muttered. 

 

Romelle glared at him as Lance groaned sadly. “I wasn’t going to tell him that, Hunk!” 

 

“It’s better he has all the information,” he replied. “If you don’t have all the information you can get easily blindsided.”

 

“And if he’s worrying about being eaten instead of focusing, he’s going to be killed!” She moved in between Keith and Lance to console the latter, who had looked at them in horror as soon as Hunk spoke. “We don’t know what the challenge is but at least we know what creatures are involved,” she said. Her voice was low and soothing in an attempt to calm her friend. “We can research it and make a plan, which is more than the competitors from Durmstrang or Beauxbaton can do.”

 

He groaned again. “I forgot this was a competition. I’m just sort of focusing on the ‘how not to die’ part of this.” He threw his hands up in frustration, banging them on the wall behind him in the process. “I’m expected to win this?”

 

“You’re  _ going  _ to win,” Keith said firmly. “We're going to make sure of it. Even if we have to spend the next two weeks in the library researching dragons to do that.”

 

“Exactly.” Hunk smiled cheerfully at the others before facing Lance. “You’re not alone, dude. You have us! Durmstrang and Beauxbatons don’t have us.”

 

Hunk had a talent for making difficult things seem simple. He was the best person to ask for help in any bad situation- because even if he couldn’t come up with a solution and all hope was lost, he made you feel a lot better about it. “Thanks, Hunk.” Lance looked at Romelle and Keith too, smiling at each of them. “I’m grateful for all of you.”

 

“You don’t have to thank us,” Romelle replied. She shrugged her shoulders and leaned against the bathroom wall, offering only a grin when he turned his head towards her. “Just win the tournament.”

 

* * *

 

His robes for the Yule Ball were hideous. “I’m not wearing that,” Keith said. He held the offensive looking garment in one hand and stuck his arm out, keeping the worn dress robes a few feet from him. They had been Mr. Shirogane’s old robes from twenty five years earlier as Shiro’s somewhat-newer robes would have completely drowned him due to his smaller build and height. They looked like they were twenty five years old, still useable but worn out from use and time. 

 

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to,” Matt called back. He was digging through his belongings, his head completely inside the wooden trunk as he threw things behind him. “Because I found my old robes from fourth year.”

 

Keith grimaced. “No offense, Matt, but I can’t wear Hufflepuff colors if I’m from Gryffindor,” he pointed out. It wasn’t required for them to wear their house colors, but there was a certain expectation of the Triwizard Tournament champions and their dates. Matt had pointed out many times over the last hour how worn out his robes were and had suggested getting his hands on a newer pair, that way he could impress people if he did somehow manage to get Lance to go with him to the ball.

 

“It’s not Hufflepuff colors,” Matt said gleefully. “I wanted to be dramatic and look amazing,” he pulled the robes from the trunk and laid them on his bed, smoothing out the wrinkles with one hand. “Gold looks good on me. But it’ll look  _ great _ on you.”

 

The gold fabric shone beautifully in the dim lighting, shimmering and glistening as Keith trailed a hand over them. The robes felt like silk and slipped from his fingers, falling gracefully back onto the bed. “These are beautiful,” he admitted. “But I can’t take them.”

 

“What?” Matt stared at him in surprise. “Why not? They’d be perfect.”

 

“Yeah, they would. But if I take these then what are you going to wear?” Keith looked between he handed down robes and the golden ones Matt was offering him and sighed. 

 

The Hufflepuff boy sat back on his bed. “Keith, my man, my poor, uncultured friend. It’s bold of you to assume that I would wear the same robes twice.” He pulled a box from under the bed and lifted the lid, displaying black dress robes embellished with white lining. “Mum sent me new ones the second the tournament had been announced.” He shoved the lid back on the box before forcing it back under his bed. “Take them, dude. You’ll thank me later.”

 

Keith smiled and accepted the dress robes gratefully. He looked at the garment in his hands and allowed himself to imagine what he would look like walking into the Great Hall next to Lance and, well… he would definitely look good.   “I guess that’s one issue out of the way.” 

 

“Yeah. Now you just have to land Lance as your date.” He chuckled at the younger boy’s tight smile and pushed his shoulder teasingly. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure that out, too.”

 

* * *

 

Lance had survived the first challenge. He had actually faced the Swedish Short-Snout, which had been the best option, judging by the struggles the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons champions each faced with their own dragons. Coming in first place in the first event had taken all of his skill- and his energy. He had to keep reminding himself in the weeks that followed that there were still two events left in the tournament.

 

Three days before event number two, the three contenders were called into Headmaster Smythe’s office. They were each handed one item: a golden egg. The egg wasn’t small by any means; it was nearly the size of his head and as heavy as a bag of rocks. There was a small latch on the front, and they all opened it at the same time. He jumped a foot in the air at the ear splitting screech that echoed around the ornate room and hurried to slam his shut.

 

“What the hell is that?” he whispered, mostly to himself.

 

“That,” replied Headmaster Smythe, “is your clue to the next event. It was in the satchel that you all recovered from the first event.” He smiled at Lance knowingly. “It is the only clue you’ll be receiving, I’m afraid.”

 

He had sat with the egg for the entire day, poking and prodding it, trying to find anything else hidden on the outside that could help him out. “I’ve got nothing,” he groaned. He placed the egg on the table in the common room and glared at it angrily. He was starting to worry. The only reason he had managed to survive the first event had been because of Romelle’s hint… if he went into the second event blind, he wasn’t sure he’d survive.

 

“Try opening it again,” Keith suggested. He dropped his quill and reached for the egg, flipping it out before Lance could protest. The screeching filled the room, causing everyone to cover their ears, and after a thirty seconds Keith slammed it shut. “Nope. I couldn’t decipher any of that.”

 

“I could have told you that,” Lance muttered. He’d had flipped it open a few hours earlier and attempted to listen for as long as he could (which had only been about a minute and a half) to no avail. He sighed and stood, picking up the egg as well. “I’m going to take a shower.”

 

“With… the egg?” 

 

He nodded. “This egg is coming with me everywhere until I figure out this goddamn clue.”

 

Showering with the egg had paid off; Lance returned to the common room about an hour later, his hair nearly dry and sticking up in random spots. He placed the egg in front of Keith gently and flopped into the chair across from him, a wide grin on his face. “I know what it says,” he announced proudly.

 

“How did you figure it out?” He picked the egg up, scanning the smooth gold for engravings of a hidden compartment.

 

Lance waved his hand. He could still feel the lingering pain from where he had dropped the heavy egg on his foot in the shower as he explained. “Underwater,” he whispered excitedly. “The screeching isn’t just screeching- it’s a  _ song _ .” He pulled the egg closer and stared at it, recalling what he had heard. “We’re going underwater to look for something. Something really important.”

 

“Underwater,” Keith repeated. He tapped the egg as he considered it before looking back at Lance. “Do you think they mean the lake?”

 

“They must,” he murmured. “It’s the only water around here that I know of.” He replayed the song in his head, working through the clue. “Underwater… one hour.”

 

“Lance… How are you supposed to breathe underwater for an hour?” 

 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I actually know a way,” he replied. “Antheid Serum. It’s a potion used by healers when they need to monitor blood pressure,” he explained. “It fills your blood with artificial oxygen. And I know how to make it.”

 

Keith blinked in surprise. “Is that safe? Have you tried it?”

 

“It’s safe,” he confirmed. “I haven’t tried it on myself, though- just a frog.”

 

Keith’s eyes widened. “That’s not a human, Lance! You can’t use something you’ve never tried!” 

 

“Do you have a better idea?” he retorted. “Anything at all?” When Keith remained silent, he sighed. “I don’t  _ want  _ to use it. But I have to do something.” He grabbed Keith’s hand tightly. It would seem like a reassurance were it not for the desperate look on his face. “I’m getting thrown into that lake. Regardless of what method, if any, that I use.”

 

Keith nodded. He squeezed Lance’s hand back even tighter. “I know that,” he whispered. There was a tinge of panic in his voice. “I just want you to be okay.”

 

“I will be,” he replied. “I’m not going anywhere, Keith. I promise.”

 

He watched as Keith exhaled. He loosened his grip on Lance’s hand, but didn’t move it, keeping their hands together. He stroked the back of Lance’s hand lightly, making patterns as he smiled. “You better not,” he breathed.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t see Keith the morning of the second event. 

 

He assumed that was Keith’s way of keeping him focused. He had only slipped into Lance’s tent during the first event for a few minutes at most before heading to the stands to watch, and the second event was infinitely harder than the first. It wasn’t unlike his friend to give him some space in order to prepare himself for the task at hand.

 

Lance still wished he had come to the lake though. There was a pang of fear in his chest whenever he looked at the almost black water and he knew, in the back of his mind, that the lake would look a lot less intimidating if Keith had been there beside him. He could picture Keith’s frantic foot tapping that he did whenever he was worried and it made him laugh, easing his jumbled nerves a little bit. 

 

“Are you ready?” Allura asked. He was allowed one aide for the event when she had offered to prep and administer the potion, he had gratefully accepted. She had to be one of the most intellectually gifted Ravenclaws, which probably meant she was the smartest person at Hogwarts; if there was anyone he trusted to help him with the potion he needed, it was her. “The serum is all set and they’re about to begin.” She handed him a small, clear vial with a murky silver substance inside. It looked looked exactly as it had in the textbook so he took it from her, shaking it lightly.

 

“May I have your attention, please,” came a booming voice from behind him. When Lance turned around, he saw Headmaster Smythe a few feet away, wand raised to his throat to magnify his voice. “The second Triwizard Tournament event is about to begin.” He waited for the applause to die down before he continued. “Last night, our three champions had something stolen from them- something that they treasure, enough to risk their own life to get it back. They will have one hour to retrieve it. After an hour, their treasure will be lost to them.” He turned to face them from the podium and began to speak to them. “If you return without your treasure, you will receive no points. I advise you to hurry, however, as they first one to return will receive first place in this event and one hundred and fifty points towards their overall ranking in the tournament.” He waited for each of them to nod in confirmation before nodding back to them. “Excellent. Champions, at the ready!”

 

Lance dumped the silver potion into his mouth and swallowed. Determination quickly replaced anxiety as he prepared himself to jump.  _ Okay,  _ he thought to himself.  _ You can do this. Get in, get the treasure, get out. Simple. _ He watched Headmaster Smythe’s wand raise in the air, heard the shot and jumped, sinking into the black abyss.

 

The first thing he registered was how cold it was. He was fully submerged and as he sunk further and further, the cold was seeping into his bones, chilling him to his core. He was still breathing, which meant the potion worked and had taken effect. He swam further downward, his mind racing as he pushed seaweed out of his way.  _ How am I supposed to find the treasure if I don’t know what it is? _ He continued to swim towards the bottom and tried to recall if he had been missing anything that morning. He didn’t think so, although the fact that Coran had managed to steal from him during the night wasn’t surprising to him in the least. He didn’t own anything that was immensely important to him, except maybe his wand, but he was currently holding that and using it to light his way as he swam. Nothing had been missing, as far as he could remember.

 

Except, something  _ had  _ been missing. Or rather, someone.  _ No.  _ He began to swim faster, desperate now to reach the bottom.  _ No, no, no, please don’t let it be that, anything but that- _

 

He pushed the last of the seaweed out of his way and held out his wand, the light increasing enough for him to see in front of him. 

 

There it was. His treasure: Keith, his ankle tied to an anchor in the sand, unconscious and floating right in front of Lance. There were two people floating beside him, two girls, one significantly younger than the other. He swam closer, noticing the creatures circling the three of them.  _ Mermaids. _ They were aggressive creatures by nature, especially when it came to collecting things. There was a good chance they would try to fight him if he tried to take Keith. Hesitantly, he floated lower, attempting to surprise them. 

 

There was a snarl behind him. He whipped around, wand held in defense, but lowered it when he saw it was the Durmstrang champion- now sporting a shark head in place of his own.  _ Impressive _ , he thought. He watched the Durmstrang champion chew threw the rope, pulling the older girl up with him as he swam. The mermaids let him go, and they all watched as he disappeared. It made him remember that they only had an hour to save their treasure and spurred Lance into motion. He pointed his wand at the rope, murmuring a charm to snap the rope attaching Keith to the anchor.

 

There was a knot in his throat as he looked at Keith’s face, peaceful from the stun charm they had used on him. Of course he was the thing Lance would risk his life for; he would risk his life a thousand times over if it was to save Keith. The realization sat heavy in his chest as he pulled Keith’s dead weight onto his back, but he pushed it away. He had to focus on the slowly ticking clock and needed to get out of the water before the hour was up.

 

Speaking of, where was the Beauxbatons girl?  _ Florona. _ Her person was still floating, attached to the anchor, and she was nowhere to be seen. The hour they had been given was ticking away, and while he wasn’t sure what they had meant when they said the treasures would be lost after the hour ended- he knew that he didn’t want to find out. Lance swam towards her, pulling Keith behind him, and held his wand out. The merfolk descended on him, pushing him backwards by his chest. 

 

“Only one,” they hissed. 

 

“But I can’t just leave her,” he insisted. He attempted to swim to her again but felt the merfolk begin to pull on his limbs. He raised his wand and shot a light behind them, distracting them long enough to free himself. He raced for the girl, firing a stun charm at the merfolk who pursued him. Lance cut her rope and pulled her up with him, suddenly grateful that Keith’s small frame weighed next to nothing on his back. 

 

He broke through the surface of the water with a gasp, real air rushing into his lungs. Someone pulled him up while other hands grabbed Florona’s treasure. When someone attempted to pull Keith away, he tightened his grip, refusing to let go of the boy.

 

“It’s adrenaline,” came Hunk’s voice. “He’ll be fine, it’s just all hitting him now. Lance?” His voice sounded far away, even though he could feel Hunk’s hands on his arm. “Lance, you have to let go of Keith. He’s okay, you’re okay, I promise.” 

 

He must have let go because the hands were gone and he suddenly felt lighter. Someone pulled him into their arms, and when he opened his eyes, he realized it was Allura. “You’re fine,” she whispered. “You did it, you got Keith and made it back in time.”

 

He stood carefully, his hands and legs shaking slightly from exertion. He saw Florona sitting to his left, the younger girl wrapped in her arms as she cried. When she felt him staring, she looked up, her light blue eyes rimmed in red.  _ Thank you,  _ she mouthed, and he nodded back blankly. It was clear now that nothing would have happened to Florona’s treasure if he hadn’t pulled her up from the depths- they couldn’t let innocent students die, after all. But in the moment it had been the only thing he could think:  _ if I don't save this girl, she’s going to die here. _

 

Headmaster Smythe clapped his hand, signaling for the crowd to quiet down. Across the deck, Lance could see Keith was awake, a towel wrapped tightly around him as he shivered. Even though he hadn’t been the one to tie the boy to the bottom of the lake, he still felt like this was his fault. Someone who organized the event knew how much the other gryffindor meant to him and had used that to get to Lance, had known that using Keith was the most effective way to mess with him. It made him feel vulnerable.

 

“First place,” he yelled, “has been awarded to Durmstrang!” 

 

There was thunderous applause, during which Lance felt his face heat up. He probably would have been first had he not gone back for the other girl. 

 

“However,” Headmaster Smythe said. He held up his hand to signal for quiet once more. “We must never forget to acknowledge good in the world whenever we see it. For his unwavering bravery and desire to do what is right, the council has decided to award one hundred points to Mr. Lance McClain, which holds him in first place in the Tournament overall.”

 

The applause this time was louder, echoing across the grounds of the school. He blinked in surprise as people crowded him, pushing him and cheering and clapping him on the back excitedly. He was… in first? It was a crazy revelation: he could  _ win  _ this. After the last event, he felt like he could do anything. He tried to push away the nagging reminder that the last event was guaranteed to be the hardest one in favor of celebrating being at the top of the leaderboard. He relished the happiness in his friends faces and stored the memory away, saving it for the last event, where he would need their support the most.

 

* * *

 

It felt like half the school had been shoved into the Gryffindor common room to celebrate Lance’s victory. There were people present that he didn’t even know the names of, Slytherin and Ravenclaw seventh years that patted him on the back enthusiastically and congratulated him for keeping Hogwarts at first place. Romelle and Matt, as the friendly party hosts that they were, had abandoned him hours earlier to mingle with the mass of strangers and had left him without a safety net for the crowd that wanted to know every last detail of the second event. Which had been fine for the first event; he hadn’t been able to stop talking afterwards, his own happiness spilling over from not only surviving but coming in first place. 

 

He didn’t feel that same happiness now. He was proud of himself for succeeding, of course, but the second event had a personal toll on him that the first one hadn’t. Lance didn’t know how to tell the wide-eyed first years about the sinking feeling of dread he had gotten when he had released who was anchored to the bottom of the lake. He couldn’t tell strangers about the desperation to reach the surface; none of them would understand the weight that had settled in his chest throughout the hour he had been underwater. 

 

There was only one person he could talk to about what had happened during the second event. Lance excused himself, ignoring the groans from the small crowd that surrounded him, carefully pushing through them. He crept towards the stairs to the dorms, taking them two at a time. He took a deep breath before pushing on the door to the room he shared with his best friend.

 

He wasn’t surprised to find Keith at the large window that overlooked the grounds. He usually sat there when he needed to clear his head, and he was there now, his eyes locked on the lake at the edge of the grounds. His wand was hand and he was murmuring something under his breath. He stopped when he noticed Lance standing there and smiled shyly. “There you are,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

 

“Here I am,” Lance replied. He smiled awkwardly, his nerves getting the better of him now that they were alone. He moved towards the bench under the window ledge and gestured to the empty spot next to Keith. “Mind if I sit here?”

 

Keith shook his head and slid over a little before he patted the spot invitingly. Lance sat down, his arm on the windowsill as he faced the other boy. Keith was back to staring at the lake as if he wasn’t there, refusing to face him. 

 

“So, about the second challenge,” Lance started to say. 

 

“Why me?” Keith asked quietly. He shook his head in confusion, pulling his eyes from the lake to his own hands in his lap. “That’s the only thing I don’t understand. They took Florona’s sister, Rolo’s girlfriend-” He cut himself off and looked at Lance questioningly. “Why did they take me?”

 

He knew the answer to Keith’s question. He had known it since they were first years, really, but had pushed it back for so long that he wasn’t sure he could say it out loud now. “Who else would they take?”

 

Keith did look at him then. “They could have taken Allura.”

 

Well, that was an answer he hadn’t expected. “Allura?” He looked at the other boy in confusion. “Why would they take her? I mean, sure, she’s my best friend but-”

 

“I thought I was your best friend,” Keith muttered. 

 

“You,” his hands shook slightly as he wrapped them around the other’s carefully, “have always been so much more than that.”

 

Keith stared at their hands. After a few tense moments, he intertwined them together, and looked up at Lance. The blank expression he had originally had was gone now, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he frowned. “I don’t understand, I dont… I thought you… How?” 

 

He chuckled awkwardly, trying to dispel the anxious energy he felt. “How it happened doesn’t really matter, I think.” Lance tightened his grip and pulled heir hands closer. “I think falling for you was inevitable.” He trailed his lips over the back of Keith’s hand before kissing it lightly.

 

“Lance,” he whispered. He looked conflicted, like he was having a hard time wrapping his head around Lance’s confession. “I’m just confused. I thought that… you and Allura,” he said. 

 

Lance would laugh if he wasn’t so dumbfounded. “Allura?” He leaned on the windowsill and grinned teasingly. “I’m not exactly her type, Keith. She prefers overly excited blonde Hufflepuffs. Female ones.”

 

Keith still looked confused. “What?”

 

“She’s a lesbian,” Lance said simply. “And is dating Romelle. Has been for two years, actually.” He leaned back against the wall and frowned. “Hang on. Is that why you’ve been so weird around her?” Realization sunk in, and he did laugh at that. “You’ve been jealous of Allura!”

 

Keith was the same shade of red as his tie and he pulled his hands back, using them to cover his face. “Shut up,” he muttered. He glared through his hands at Lance and frowned. “Hang on. Am I the only one who didn’t know that?”

 

“You are,” he confirmed with a laugh. “Oh, man. I can’t believe you thought me and Allura…” He shook his head, still chuckling. “She’s my friend, Keith. That’s all.”

 

They both fell silent for a few minutes. Lance was staring out the window at the stars when Keith spoke again. “And me?” Lance looked at him questioningly. “What am I to you?”

 

He smiled and held his hand out to the other boy. “What do you want to be?”

 

Keith grinned, placing his hand in Lance’s eagerly. They locked hands as they faced each other, and he took a deep breath. “Your date to the Yule Ball,” he replied. 

 

“I can definitely make that happen,” Lance said happily. He leaned closer and placed a kiss to Keith’s cheek, laughing as his ears turned red. “I wouldn’t want to go with anyone else.”

 

* * *

 

The Yule Ball was a celebration of the three schools coming together and learning about each other. It was a way to get to know people different than your own and a way to learn more about other cultures. It was the only part of the Triwizard Tournament that didn’t put the contenders in terrible peril. 

 

Usually. Lance looked at himself in his full length mirror and tugged on his silver dress robes in an attempt to smooth any wrinkles, more anxious than he had been before either of the challenges. Allura opened the door and slipped inside, already dressed in her gown. “I think I’m going to die,” he deadpanned.

 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You aren’t going to die,” she said. Her eyes trailed over his attire and she smiled sweetly. “You look amazing, Lance.”

 

He had to agree with her. The shimmery silver of his robes contrasted beautifully with his dark skin and made the dark blue of his eyes stand out. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, tousling the waves a little more. “You think so?”

 

“I do,” Allura replied. She smirked and sat on his bed carefully, as not to wrinkle her gown. “I’m sure Keith will think so, too.”

 

His mouth went dry at her words. “I think I’d rather face the dragon again.”

 

“Oh, stop being dramatic. You’re going to have fun and you’re going to be  _ fine _ .” She placed a hand on his shoulder and spun him from the mirror. “It’s now or never, McClain. Preferably now, though,” she said. “You can’t be late to your own celebration.”

 

They left the room and walked towards the Great Hall. Matt had insisted that Keith got ready in his room and Allura had agreed, so both of them were escorting the gryffindor boys to the ball itself. “Ah, Mr. McClain,” Headmaster Smythe greeted. He was dressed in all white, which actually looked nice, though it made his red hair seem brighter than usual. “Is Miss Altea your date this evening?” 

 

“No,” he answered. He scratched his neck nervously. “It’s, uh. Keith Kogane. I’m just waiting for him to arrive.”

 

“Oh, excellent!” The older man smiled happily. “I do hope he arrives soon. The Triwizard champions are all expected to take part in the spotlight dance.”

 

Lance gasped so hard that he began to choke. “I’m sorry? Spotlight dance? No one told me that!”

 

“Didn’t I mention it?” he asked curiously. When Lance shook his head, eyes wide, he frowned. “Oh. Well now you know,” he replied. “Let me know when Mr. Kogane has arrived.” He walked towards Florona and her date, a visibly stressed Ravenclaw boy whose robes were slightly too short.

 

Lance whipped around to face Allura, panicked. “Spotlight dance? Just feed me to the Hungarian Horntail and put me out of my misery.” 

 

She covered her mouth, stifling her giggles. “You’re a fantastic dancer,” she said. “What’s the problem?”

 

“The problem- oh, hello Romelle, you look lovely.” The Hufflepuff girl slid beside Allura silently and linked her arm with her girlfriend’s arm. “The problem is that my first dance with my maybe-sort of boyfriend is going to be in front of the whole school.” 

 

“It’s going to be fine. Just do what they taught us in lessons and it will be over before you know it,” she replied. She peeked behind him and grinned. “Looks like your date is here, Lance.”

 

He turned, looking at the stairs behind him. Keith was descending down the stone staircase, dressed entirely in shimmering gold. The light was hitting his robes and making them shine beautifully. But what really took his breath away was the smile on his face- confident, sweet and sheepish all at the same time, and so very  _ Keith  _ that it made his heart beat a little faster.

 

“I think Keith broke Lance,” Romelle whispered. 

 

He swallowed in an attempt to clear his throat as he walked towards the staircase. When they locked eyes, Keith’s smile turned teasing, and he felt himself grin back. Lance held out his hand just as Keith reached the last step. “You look beautiful,” he said seriously. When Keith flushed, he laughed. “I guess I caught the golden snitch tonight.”

 

“I’m breaking up with you,” Keith replied with a laugh. “I mean, thank you, but that was terrible. Please never say that again.”

 

Lance laughed loudly and pulled him closer. “Alright, alright. Oh, by the way. We have to dance in front of the entire school, alone, in a few minutes.”

 

“Lance, seriously. No more jokes,” he said, chuckling. He looked at his date’s face, completely serious and lacking his typical smirk and paled a little bit. “You’re not joking?”

 

“Nope.” He did smile then and tapped his hip against Keith’s teasingly. “Time to put that Gryffindor bravery to some good use.”

 

They were herded towards a separate entrance by some frantic aides, their hands shoving the two of them behind Florona and her date. After sharing an anxious glance, the doors opened, and they walked arm in arm into the enchanted Great Hall. 

 

Everyone was already seated at large round tables, their eyes glued to the two champions in front of them and their dates. When Lance and Keith entered the ballroom, there was murmured whispering from their peers. Someone whistled suggestively and to his surprise, Lance could feel Keith shaking as he laughed. “They look so surprised,” he whispered with a giggle. “We’re the talk of the castle, McClain. The next hot gossip.”

 

“It can’t be that surprising,” he whispered back. He smiled at their friends, all huddled around one table in the corner, two seats empty- presumably for them after their dance. “Allura’s been pushing me to ask you out since second year.”

 

There was a slight snort beside him. “Matt’s been the same way. Shiro was the worst. He figured it out the summer after our first year, when we sending owls back and forth and never let me rest for a second afterwards.” He paused, biting his lip nervously. “He’s, uh, really happy for us.” 

 

They were about to reach the center of the room, so Lance slid his hand to wrap around Keith’s own. “That’s awesome,” he said happily. “I’ve been worried he wouldn’t think I was good enough for you.” He turned Keith towards him as the music began, pulling him against his chest. 

 

He looked at Lance in surprise. “Shiro likes you a lot, actually. He thinks you ground me.” He smiled and met his eyes hesitantly. “I think that, too.”

 

Lance smiled back. “We ground each other, Red.” 

 

He started to move, thinking about the steps they had learned in the lesson they had been given. He had mostly been focused on the events of the tournament and had definitely spent the lesson stressing about that, but the dance moves came back to him in a flash. He twirled them gracefully around the room, spinning and twisting at just the right time. There was a swell in the music, signaling the lift. His hands trailed down the other boy’s side, resting on his hips for a brief second before he lifted Keith in the air. He spun at the same time, switching their positions and placing him down gently. Keith seemed dazed by the spin and accidentally stepped on Lance’s foot when he attempted to side step. 

 

“Sorry,” he whispered.

 

People were beginning to join the dance now, releasing some of the pressure they had both been feeling. “It’s okay,” he assured. He grinned and shrugged before turning them again. “I like dancing with you. Missteps and all.” 

 

They swayed in spot as the soft music faded away. The Headmaster was on the small stage set up in the front of the room, and he waited for everyone’s attention patiently. “I just wanted to take this moment to thank everyone for their help throughout the tournament. Diplomacy only truly works when we treat everyone, even our rivals, as equal to us, whether that be in strength or in quality of their personality. We have had quite an interesting tournament thus far and I am excited to see it’s conclusion. Have a good evening, friends.” 

 

The crowd clapped enthusiastically before diving back into their own conversations. The music started up again but it was a faster beat this time- it reminded Lance of the muggle music his mother liked to dance to. He laughed happily and pulled Keith close again. “I love this song! Dance with me?” he asked.

 

Keith grinned and intertwined their hands together. He looked around at everyone dancing around them. “Sure,” he replied. “That’s what a ball is for, right?

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to die,” Lance said happily. His head was faced down into his pillow, his voice coming out muffled and hard to understand.

 

Allura laughed. “You’ve said that a lot today.” 

 

He lifted his head with a grin. “Actually, I think I am dead. Mark it down ‘llura. Lance McClain, deceased. January 16th, 11:35pm. Cause of death: Keith Kogane.”

 

“He was so young.” She imitating wiping away tears with the corner of his quilt and then smacked him with another pillow. “Knock it off, you dramatic goofball.” She laid down next to him, one hand propped under her head. “So it was good?”

 

“‘ _ Was it good’ _ she asks me! Was it good? It was the best night of my life,” he sighed. “Literally the best night. Nothing can even come close.”

 

“Not even winning the tournament?”

 

He smiled. “Probably not. Unless, you know, Keith is there afterwards and gives me a different kind of prize.”

 

“I can’t believe you two didn’t kiss,” Allura groaned. “We’ve been waiting for you guys to make a move for two years and you  _ finally _ do. And then you just,” she wrinkled her nose, “you just hug.”

 

Lance shrugged. “It will happen when it happens,” he replied. It was still a perfect night without a kiss. The two of them had spent the majority of the night on the dance floor, stopping only to get drinks and talk to each other. They mainly talked about their own crushes on each other, realizing to their horror just how dense they had both been about approaching their emotions. Just being together had made the night perfect for him.

 

“Speaking of the tournament. Do you have any idea what the last challenge is going to be?” 

 

He glanced at her nervously. “No. All we know is that it’s a maze.” He bit his lip anxiously as he tried to recall what the Headmaster had told them. “There’s going to be obstacles but we have no idea what kind.”

 

“Multiple obstacles, then?” She looked nervous as well. “They’re really going to make this hard for you all.”

 

He nodded. “We expected this, though. It’s not an easy tournament to begin with. They really raised the stakes from the first to the second event- I’m sure they’ll do that again this time.” He frowned and pulled at his sleeves, yanking them over his hands. “Not sure how much worse it can get than seeing Keith unconscious and floating at the bottom of the lake, though.”

 

“If there’s something worse than that, they’ve probably thought of it,” she said sadly. Her grey eyes, thoughtful but dark as ever, flashed to his. “You’re going to have to really give this your all.”

 

“Trust me, I know. I’m not about to give up. Not when I’m this close to the end.” He took a deep breath, looking determined. “I’m going to win or I’m going to die trying.”

 

* * *

 

It was clear, as Lance stood on the edge of the mile long maze, that this challenge was not one to be taken lightly. The students were thrilled by the final event, if the roar of their cheers and the cascading music was anything to go by. Their professors seemed excited as well, all of them desperately hoping that Hogwarts would come out victorious. But despite their encouragements and well wishes, Lance could feel his nerves like a livewire inside his veins, fueling his stress. Thankfully, Florona and Rolo looked as stressed as he did, both of them jittery as they waited at the mouth of the maze. 

 

“Students, Faculty, and our esteemed guests!” Headmaster Smythe called out. “Welcome to the final event of the Triwizard Tournament!” 

 

The cheers erupted around them then, the sound almost suffocating in its power. 

 

“Settle down! Now, the last event of the Tournament is, by far, the most challenging one of them all. Our contenders will enter the maze here and it will be sealed behind them. What awaits them inside this maze will push them to the edge of their own strength. It will make or break them not only as wizards but as people. It is not for the faint of heart and will require them to reach within themselves to find skills they didn’t even know existed. It will test the limits of their courage and the power of their will.”

 

_ Sounds delightful, _ Lance thought bitterly. He hadn’t regretted putting his name into the Goblet of Fire until this very second. Was it worth it? If he knew how brave he was… did it matter that anyone else knew?  _ No. I suppose not.  _

 

It was a pointless revelation. He was in too deep already. He was about to enter the last event of the tournament- whether he wanted to or not. 

 

“To our champions: I advise you to go into the maze with your own strengths and weaknesses on the forefront of your mind. There is no need to pretend inside the maze. No one will be with you besides yourself and your fellow contenders,” said the Headmaster. “The first one to reach the Triwizard Cup, hidden somewhere inside, is the winner of the Tournament. Simply hold the Cup and it will transport you here, outside of the maze.” He smiled and nodded at the group solemnly. “Good luck to you all.”

 

The three champions turned towards their own paths. Lance took a deep breath to steady himself as they waited for the canon to sound off. When it did, the three champions each stepped forward into the maze, leaving the music and crowd behind them. Seconds later, the foliage shook and vines rose from the ground, sealing the entrance and presumably, the only exit to the maze besides the Triwizard Cup. He turned forward once more, facing the path, now covered by a light mist. Lance could no longer hear his classmates of the music; instead there was only silence to accompany the dimly lit maze.

 

_ This is fine, _ he told himself firmly.  _ It’s fine. Focus on getting to the cup and getting the hell out of here. _ He began to walk forward, stepping over rocks and the uneven ground. He walked straight ahead until he came to a three way divide in the path. He groaned internally; he had never been good at making decisions in a timely manner and he assumed he didn’t have long before something appeared that he would have to fight. He followed his gut and went down the left path, hoping that he hadn’t just gone in the opposite direction from the cup. He walked down that path for a few minutes before he heard a shuffling sound coming from behind him. He whipped around, wand held in front of him, only to find nothing but the same empty path he faced ahead. Uncomfortably, he faced forward and walked for a bit more- until he heard the shuffling start again. 

 

Lance held his wand up in front of him, discreetly.  _ “Speculo _ , _ ” _ he whispered. A small mirror fell into his palm. He held it slightly above his shoulder and directed it towards the edge of the greenery where a short, gray colored… something was trailing behind. It had a tiny body and a large head and was creeping along the path, just a few feet from Lance. He pointed his wand at the mirror and murmured,  _ “factum,” _ watching it fade from existence. He turned around sharply and stared at the spot where the creature had been just seconds earlier. In its place was one large rock, or what he assumed was the creature’s head, sitting in the path.  _ Gotcha. _ He turned forward for a third time and walked, waiting for the shuffling of the creature behind him. When he heard it, he summoned the mirror and used it to spot the menace. He pointed his wand behind him towards the creature and muttered a Stun Charm, grinning when he saw it fall to the ground. 

 

“You almost got me,” he taunted the unconscious creature. Now that it wasn’t hiding, he could see claws about three inches long and that it had teeth around the same length. “Oh shit… I’m definitely not going to hang around and wait for you to wake up.” 

 

He jogged down the rest of the path until he came to another turn: left or right. He quickly traced his path in his head and turned right. All was quiet for ten minutes or so, which was a blessing but also a curse- every sound, every crunch of the leaves under his shoes, was keeping him on edge. He was almost worried that he’d accidentally set off the signal for help just because of how jumpy he was.  _ Although that was probably their intention.  _ He strode forward down the path, eager to get out of the goddamn maze already-

 

-and felt something wrap around his leg. 

 

Lance hit the ground as whatever had caught his pulled him downwards. The impact left him wheezing, and he tried desperately to see what had trapped him.  _ This is it, this is it, I’m going to die, something’s got me oh GOD.  _ He frantically pulled his leg but the creature pulled him back harder. His breathing sped up as he began to panic. “ _ Lumos, lumos, lumos _ , come on,” he chanted, panting hard. His wand lit up, exposing the Devil’s Snare that was quickly wrapping around his legs. 

 

“Ah!  _ Incendio _ ,” he yelled. The fire began instantaneously, forcing the snare to retreat and slink back into the foliage. He stood quickly and ran a few feet away before pointing his wand at the spreading flames.  _ “Extinctas admoto,” _ he muttered. The flame faded into nothingness, returning the path to the engulfing darkness. 

 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the maze for. It felt like hours, even though he knew it could only have been one hour at most since he had stood on the Hogwarts lawn. The darkness and silence was playing with his head, raising his fear of the unknown and making him question every decision he made. When he reached what seemed like the eighth or ninth split in the path, he groaned.

 

“I don’t  _ know!” _ he cried. He fell to the ground, landing on his hands and knees. “Is that what you want to hear? That I don’t know which way to go anymore? Huh?” He was yelling at the empty path in front of him, his eyes locked on the dirt below. The frustration was almost too much to bear and he looked up at the three choices in front of him wearily. 

 

There was a shimmer of light coming from the path on the left. Intrigued and hopeful, he stood and ran down that choice, his pulse pounding with exhaustion. He stopped running when the mist in front of him began to glimmer. It was thrumming with energy and swirled to form a shape, just a few feet from him. Lance watched as the mist crept back, leaving a figure in its place. He gasped in horror when he looked at the spector’s face and saw his own face staring back blankly. 

 

_ It’s… me.  _ The spector was identical to the fourteen year old boy, down to the gryffindor sweatshirt he wore and his muddy pants. The only difference was the distant look in its eyes, exposing the ghost’s lack of humanity. It stared back at Lance, giving him a once over before sneering. 

 

“Some great champion you are,” it hissed. “Sweaty, exhausted, frustrated… all from a little walking and a Devil’s Snare?” The ghost laughed humorlessly. “Pathetic.”

 

Lance wanted to approach it but he found himself rooted to the spot. His body seemed to be in shock, leaving him to scream furiously at his own muscles for refusing to move. All of his nerves were fried and he felt incapacitated, although he knew he was perfectly capable of movement.

 

The spector didn’t attempt to move towards him in the slightest. Instead, it hurled words at him, thoughts he knew only he could know. “Throwing your name into the Goblet of Fire doesn’t make you brave,” it insisted. He saw his own teasing smile on its face and felt his stomach twist. “It makes you  _ selfish _ .”

 

He fought against his own body, begging it to move, to release him from the taunts of his own subconscious. “You’ve never been good enough… and I’ve got news for you, oh mighty champion.” His heart squeezed tightly as he prepared himself for whatever it was about to say. “You still aren’t good enough. Not for your family, not for your school, not for Gryffindor, and not for Keith.”

Heat flared through his body. He felt the flush on his cheeks, the fire spreading to his ears and down his neck. The spector grinned cruelly, spotting his reaction and relishing it. “How could he love someone like you… you have nothing to offer. No talents. No skills beyond weaseling your way into this competition.” Ghost Lance laughed once more. “You aren’t special,” it hissed.

 

_ Look into yourself. _ That had been the Headmaster’s parting words. It hadn’t been gibberish… it was a warning. He was going to be his own downfall, unless he found a way around it. 

 

The spector spoke again. “The Triwizard Cup is right around this corner, by the way,” it sang. “You’re the first to arrive here. It’s too bad you won’t reach it.” He smirked, sticking his hands in his pockets the same way Lance did whenever he was gloating about something. “Come on, McClain. Walk around me. Grab the cup… you can’t, can you? Because you know you don’t deserve it.” The humor drained from its face. “You’re not a champion. You’ll never be anything.”

 

Lance could feel the blood rush through him as his own insecurities were thrown back at him.  _ But that’s all they are, _ he reminded himself.  _ Insecurities. Monsters that prey on your self-esteem. _ He needed to face them head on… because if he didn’t? If he just gave up and sent up a signal for help? They would eat him alive when he least expected it.  _ You know none of this is true. You’re in Gryffindor for a reason.  _ And then a voice, small and kind and very much not his own voice, whispering words he hadn’t heard since he was eleven and on his way to Hogwarts for the very first time…  _ You’ll shine wherever you end up, Lance. _

 

His leg moved. One step forward, then another, and then another, until he came face to face with the imitation of himself. “I’ll never be you,” he whispered. The spector smiled, a real genuine smile, as Lance walked straight through it. 

 

When he turned around, the spector was gone.

 

He rounded the corner of the maze, coming to a clearing. Sitting in the middle was the shimmering silver cup, waiting for the winner of the tournament to take it. He grinned, relief flooding through him- just as Florona entered from the other side of the maze.

 

There was a beat of silence in which neither of them moved, and then they both  _ sprinted _ . Lance ran faster than he had ever run in his life towards the cup, hsi heart racing. In the back of his mind, he wished aimlessly for his broom, knowing that with just his own legs, it was going to be a close call. He dived when he was within five feet of the cup, his arms outstretched. He heard Florona let out a yell as she dived for it, too. He felt the handle of the cup in his hands and pulled, yanking the prize towards him. He closed his eyes.

 

When he opened them, he was sitting on the lawn in front of the school, sunlight beating down and making him sweat. The Triwizard Cup was sitting in his lap, both of his hands wrapped firmly around it. Through the blood rushing in his ears, he could hear the crowd roar, the loudest of which came from the Gryffindor section.

“We have a winner!” Headmaster Smythe proclaimed. “Your new Triwizard Tournament champion: Lance McClain, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” 

 

The students flooded the lawn at the announcement, a sea of yellow, green, blue and red forming on the grass. He stood, blinking in the midday sun, absentmindedly aware he probably looked like a wreck. Lance felt hands on him and turned to see his friends, all of them, cheering and yelling excitedly. Romelle was crying, although she was grinning and trying to hide it. Allura’s strong arms wrapped around him, squeezing any breath he still had left from his lungs. When she released him, he felt a tug on his wrist and was spun around, turning right into the arms of a Gryffindor boy with a wide grin etched onto his face. He was beaming, rivaling the brightness of the winter sun, and he wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist. 

 

“Way to go, Champion,” Keith whispered in his ear, seconds before he turned to press his mouth against Lance’s own softly. 

**Author's Note:**

> All of the spells are either taken from Harry Potter or the latin version of the English word. 
> 
> Also, that rock creature thing? It's a real thing from the HP universe. It's called a Pogrebin and I laughed my ass off when I saw what it looked like.


End file.
